


a girl who was saturday (the could have had a family remix)

by coricomile



Category: Bandom, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Alternate Universe - Always a Different Sex, Genderswap, Incest, Unplanned Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-26
Updated: 2015-06-26
Packaged: 2018-04-06 07:57:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4214103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coricomile/pseuds/coricomile
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mikey wants to touch her stomach, but he knows she’ll just slap his hands and turn over. She hates feeling weak. He doesn’t think she’s weak. Not with those cells multiplying inside of her, creating life. Making something new. For some reason, he never pictured her getting pregnant. Not even in some far off, fuzzy future where they’re not broke and stupid.</p>
            </blockquote>





	a girl who was saturday (the could have had a family remix)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pearl_o](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pearl_o/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Dig Me Out, Dig Me In](https://archiveofourown.org/works/125141) by [pearl_o](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pearl_o/pseuds/pearl_o). 
  * In response to a prompt by [pearl_o](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pearl_o/pseuds/pearl_o) in the [remixmadness2015](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/remixmadness2015) collection. 



Mikey wonders, sometimes, if Ma ever thinks they’re fucked up. Like, he _knows_ they’re weird, with their comic books and funky basement bedrooms and quietness, but he wonders if Donna knows the other part of the weird. The part where he wants to fuck his sister.

He’s eighteen, still growing into his freaky big hands and feet. They’re too old to share a bed, too big, but that’s never stopped them before. It’s sweltering under the blankets and Gee hasn’t brushed her teeth yet. She kind of smells, but so does he. Sweat creeps under his t-shirt, sticking the cotton to his pits and the small of his back. It’s uncomfortable, but he doesn’t want to move. 

He wants to touch her stomach, but he knows she’ll just slap his hands and turn over. She hates feeling weak. Mikey doesn’t think she’s weak. Not with those cells multiplying inside of her, creating life. Making something new. For some reason, he never pictured her getting pregnant. Not even in some far off, fuzzy future where they’re not broke and stupid.

It’s amazing. It’s terrifying.

“I know I can’t have it,” Gee says. Mikey can barely hear her in the ringing silence. Sometimes, when they’re together like this, Mikey likes to pretend that the world has stopped turning. That time has removed itself from them, ready to come back online when they are. “But I kind of want it.”

Gee would make a good mom. She’s fucked up, heading towards the family predilection of alcoholism, but she’s got the biggest, softest heart of anyone he’s ever known. He doesn’t know how many times she’s picked him up, dusted him off, and sent him on his way. He thinks she could kick her bad habits for a kid. For her kid.

"You say that like you want me to argue with you," Mikey says. He can’t see her all that well. It’s too dark and his glasses are on the dresser. But he knows the look on her face. The little wrinkle in her nose, the twist of her thin lips at the corners. She hasn’t washed her makeup off, and it’s got to be smearing across her cheeks and onto her temples.

Gee’s beautiful and she doesn’t have to try.

“Maybe I do,” Gee says. She kicks him in the shin when she pulls her knees up. Fetal position. Irony, their old friend.

"Okay," Mikey says. He folds his hands into loose fists, holding them against his chest. He won’t touch her stomach. He _won’t_. "Which side?"

"I'm too young," Gee says. "I'm not ready. At all. What would I even do with a baby? I'm a fucking mess, and I'm just about to graduate, and god, I don't even have a boyfriend, I would be doing this all by myself. I'm so fucked up, Mikey, I can't even take care of myself, let alone someone else. Fuck."

The words come out of her at high speeds. Mikey wonders, not for the first time, who the dad is. It could be anyone. No. That’s not fair. Gee sleeps around almost as much as him, but she’s picky. She’s not a slut. It’s not a word that applies to her.Mikey closes his eyes and tries to put his thoughts together. He tries not to imagine a baby with Gee’s nose and some nameless dude’s eyes. It’s not fair that she gave him the keep it side of the argument, but he did let her choose. It’ll have to be her choice in the end, no matter what anyway.

"You could, though," Mikey says. He drums his fingers over his hip, knuckles brushing Gee’s knees through her beat up jeans. "I mean, if you really did want to keep it. You'd manage. You'd figure out how to make it work. People do it all the time. And, like. You wouldn't really be doing it alone. You know Ma and Dad and Elena would all help out."

Mikey opens his eyes and squints. He can make out the pale oval of Gee’s face under the dark blur of her hair. She looks younger like this. When he can’t see the growing cracks at the corners of her mouth or the purple blue bags under her eyes. She could be twelve again, hiding out and telling him one endlessly amazing story after another. But she’s not. She’s twenty-two, and he needs to step the fuck up for a change.

"I'd help, too,” Mikey says. He lets himself trace the fraying edges of the hole in the knee of her jeans. It’s soft, one of his old pairs, and he can feel the prickle of her unshaved skin under it. “You know that. Whatever you needed. If that was what you wanted, I'd help you raise it."

“You'd be a good dad," Gee says. Mikey’s heart stutters in his chest for a moment. 

In that second, that breathless moment of stillness, he pictures it. Him and Gee with a messy faced baby, bickering about movies while passing it back and forth. Him and Gee chasing a toddler in all black across the floor of a kitchen he’s never seen. Him and Gee, laying together in bed, exhausted but happy. 

Gee shifts, curling up tighter, and the moment shatters. The baby isn’t his. It would never _be_ his. He’d be the doting uncle. The goofy guy in the glasses that visited too often and bought too many crappy gifts. 

"It'd have flippers," Mikey says, aiming for serious. His voice doesn’t crack, and that’s got to be enough. "Be born with a tail. Maybe it would have mutant powers like the X-Men."

"Another freak in the world," Gee says. He can hear her grinning around the shape of the words. 

Gee leans in toward him, and then her lips are against his, tasting like cigarettes and Coke Zero and fruity chapstick. It’s there and gone in an instant, something he could have made up if she wasn’t still laying next to him. Mikey’s heart twists in his chest. God but he aches for her.

"Gee..." Mikey says, and there’s that break. He sounds as young as he is. "What are you-"

"Don't," Gee says, cutting him off. Mikey closes his eyes and breathes in slowly. If this is just a thing, a desperate, scared thing, it’ll kill him. If it isn’t- If it isn’t, someone else might kill him. No win. The story of his life so far.

"Are you sure?" Mikey asks. He reaches for her, fumbles until his hand closes around hers. Her fingers are frozen, even though it’s still too damn hot.

"No," Gee says, her breath ghosting over his lips. She kisses him again, pulling him in by the shoulders. Finally, _finally_ , he presses his palm against her pudgy stomach and pretends, just for a minute, that this could be their lives.


End file.
